Parallel: United Front

Chapter 18: Viper

July 28th 3039 A.D

Junkyard, Outer Ring,

Kudan.

The red glow of the early morning sun peeked over the horizon, highlighting massive shadows cast by desolate metal towers. These massive structures, standing at tens of feet tall maintained a vague balance, one which seemed could be threatened with the slightest breath of the wind. The low hum of an aircraft disturbed the tranquil scene as a dumpster truck pulled overhead, its container filled with a week's worth of the city's metal waste.

It was funny. Despite the world's current state, it seemed humanity just could not get itself to understand the importance of recycling, obviously finding it far too troublesome to take a second to consider what should be trashed or not. On the government's part, they were able to use giant magnets to separate metal from the rest of the waste which was eventually burned to dust. Since no company was willing to go through the trouble of sorting through the metal waste for what was usable or not, they were loaded into trucks and unceremoniously dumped at the junkyard at the end of every week.

Still, there was a reason why despite several years of dumping refuse at this site, it had not overflown (not that the inner city would care.)

As if prompted by the sound of metal crashing against another as the waste fell from the sky, several silhouettes shuffled past the gates of the junkyard. The old man in charge of the yard only spared a glance at the silhouettes before he pressed down on his hat, using it to shield his eyes as he let out a sigh.

Torn clothes, skinny, emancipated bony structures, pallid complexion and sunken empty eyes. These were the common characteristics among the scavengers who trudged into the junkyard. Almost like a tacit agreement had been formed previously amongst them, these men, women, and children of the Outer Ring shambled to different sections of the junkyard, choosing not to interfere with each other. Even if someone found something good, the others would not attempt to fight for it. How could they? They barely had enough energy to walk. Anyone stupid enough to fight for resources would only be hastening their own death.

The other reason for their dispersion was that the different gangs of the Outer Ring had divvied up the junkyard amongst themselves. These scavengers all worked for one gang or another, so they could only go to the section allocated to the gang they were under. For four hours every morning, these desperate souls would scour through the junk for anything that looked remotely valuable or usable. How much food they got that day and whether or not they slept under a roof was all dependent on their search, so it could be imagined just how desperate these people were.

At a corner near the entrance, the eyes of a child, barely five or six years old revealed a rare gleam as he spotted what seemed to be an intact exhaust pipe beneath a pile of scraps. The child snapped his head back and forth, afraid that someone else would notice his prize. Only when he saw that everyone else was busy with their own pile did he shamble over to the pile and bend over, gripping the cold, round metal with tiny, bony fingers.

Veins pulsed on the child's arms as he pulled at the pipe with all the strength he could muster. However, much to his dismay, the pipe showed no signs of budging despite his considerable effort. After several more tugs, the child's heart rate escalated as desperation began to set in. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of the bigger children or men came by his corner. At that time, they would definitely push him out with the excuse that he was too weak to obtain the pipe anyway.

Clang!

The child's reddened eyes snapped to the side where the tell-tale sound of metal striking against metal resounded. Tremors ran through the child's heart, eyes widening with panic as he saw the three bigger children whose eyes hovered over the pipe in his hands with clear desire and greed.